by Kim Lawrence
‘You need a little more reliable help than a flower remedy, in my opinion. Don’t you have the common sense to keep a first aid kit here?’ Jack asked impatiently, irked because he felt more affected by her presence than he wanted to be.
‘I do, but it’s only got bandages and plasters in it. Please don’t give it another thought. I’m fine, really.’
‘You could have broken your damned neck!’
The tension in him suddenly too extreme to stay contained, Jack threw Caroline a fierce look. He heard her shocked intake of breath at his vehement outburst.
‘Well, how inconvenient for you that I didn’t!’ she came back at him, a distinct catch in her voice despite her seeming bravado.
‘I don’t deny that I wanted you to suffer after what you did, but I’m hardly likely to want you to kill yourself.’
Deeply affected by the grating quality in his voice, Caroline felt her anxious gaze stare up at him, mesmerised.
‘One day you were telling me that you were pregnant with my baby, and the next that you’d had the pregnancy terminated. Talk about a kick in the head, Caroline!’
Her whole body protesting in pain, Caroline dug her nails into her palms, as if deserving of even more. She wanted to tell Jack about her father…how he had forced her into having the abortion…but what would telling him such a thing achieve? Jack’s reaction would probably be to despise her father even more—and maybe even her too, for being too weak to resist his coercion. She could hardly bear any more of his contempt.
She sucked in a deep breath. ‘You were planning on going away…I knew how desperately you wanted to change your life for the better, to make some money and free yourself, and I—I was only seventeen, Jack.’ She shook her head in an agony of searing emotion, feelings surfacing that for seventeen years she’d had to lock away deep inside her, in a cast-iron trunk with chains and a padlock, in order to stay sane. ‘I—I was afraid.’
‘You should have talked to me…not just gone ahead and done what you did.’
Jack couldn’t even bring himself to say the words You killed our baby…the miracle that they had created out of their passion and love. He just about managed to rein in the fury and pain that was surging through his blood like a fiery contagion. She might have been afraid, and just seventeen years old, but still he couldn’t help but feel cruelly betrayed that she hadn’t come to him and asked his help to work things out.
It didn’t matter that he’d had that feverish desire to escape the small, going-nowhere town where he’d grown up…He’d been in deep shock when she’d told him she was pregnant. He would have definitely delayed his desire for flight if Caroline had only asked him to—if she had not made such an irreversible decision on her own. In any case, he had planned for her to move in with him just as soon as he’d got himself established and she’d finished her education…They’d talked about it enough times, for God’s sake! She’d known he wasn’t playing a game with her—she’d known that his feelings for her were all-consuming and completely genuine…
‘Can we stop this? Can we stop this right now? I really don’t want to talk about the past any more. I have to get back to work…And although it might look hunky-dory from the outside, you shouldn’t be so quick to assume that my life has been nothing but a breeze since you left.’
Determinedly Caroline got to her feet, despite feeling dizzy and sick and close to wanting to die right then. There wasn’t one emotion Jack could display that she didn’t feel acutely. She hated it that she’d hurt him so badly. If she could somehow turn back time she would—just to undo that one heartrending deed. But she couldn’t. And she’d clearly received the message that Jack was still no more near to forgiving her for what she’d done than he had been all those years ago, when they had both been so young.
The agony of that realisation seemed even more raw than it ever had been…like a blister that would never heal. All Caroline could do was live with it as best as she could—just as she’d been living with it all this time, until his shocking reappearance.
‘Why did you come back here to see me, Jack? There’s nothing for you here.’
She was absolutely right, of course. There was nothing he wanted from Caroline Tremayne ever again.
Trying to clear his head, Jack forced himself to remember why he’d sought her out.
‘That comment I made yesterday about your father…I’m sorry. It was uncalled-for.’
‘You came to apologise about that?’ She looked dumbfounded.
‘How did he die?’
‘In his sleep…he had a brain aneurysm.’
‘Did he suffer?’
He saw her wrestle with the answer, suspicious of his interest, probably wondering if he was only trying to be malicious. Damn! He had no business being concerned one iota at how she was perceiving him! All he needed to do was close the conversation and get the hell out of there as quickly as he was able—not prolong the undoubted agony of their meeting one moment longer.
Brushing back her tumbled hair, Caroline briefly surrendered her defences and met Jack’s gaze head-on. ‘Thankfully, it must have been very quick and very sudden. Nicholas—a friend of ours who’s also a GP—told me he wouldn’t have suffered at all.’
‘Good.’
Turning on his heel, Jack started to walk away. He told himself the only reason that he stopped halfway to the door was that she’d suffered a fall and he had to be sure she was properly okay. He utterly refused to entertain the renegade idea that the sight of her was stirring up that old dangerous attraction he’d harboured for her so long ago, and knew that if he had the remotest instinct for self-preservation he’d better keep a good distance between him and her for the remainder of his stay—for however long that might be.
‘You ought to get yourself checked over by the doctor after having that fall off the ladder. Sometimes there can be internal injuries you can’t see.’
Oh, God, did she know about those! Unable to handle his rough-voiced concern for her well-being another moment, Caroline smoothed her hands down her jeans, fiddled with her hair and cleared her throat determinedly to give her the courage to stay strong.
‘Really, I’m fine. I don’t need to see a doctor. I’m disgustingly resilient. Rubber bones, don’t you know? I bounce right back when I get hurt.’
A curious expression she couldn’t read crept into Jack’s inscrutable blue eyes at her flippant words.
‘How fortunate for you,’ he remarked, his lean jaw tightening with a visible jerk. In less than half a minute he’d exited the shop, leaving the mocking tinkle of the little bell above the door sounding more like a cacophony of gunshot behind him than gentle, wistful chimes…
‘No bones broken, thank goodness, but you should have come to see me straight away after it happened. You’ve got some nasty bruising and stiffness, that’s all, and that will heal in a few days.’
Walking round his desk, Nicholas strode over to Caroline, where she stood after her examination, pulling on her jacket.
‘Let me take you out to dinner…you look as though you could do with a little TLC.’ He touched his palm to her cheek, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners with both concern and humour.
With her own doctor away, Caroline had reluctantly asked Nicholas to check her over. Jack’s words about seeing a doctor had been ringing in her ears when she’d woken this morning—barely able to get around with the bruising on her hip and thigh that she’d suffered from her fall. But, truth to tell, most of her misery had been more to do with the fact that Jack still blamed her for having the termination than any physical bumps and bruises she’d suffered. She’d woken in the night wishing with all her might that she had stood up to her domineering father more and refused the abortion he’d insisted on.
Now, her thoughts returned irrevocably to Jack. His appearance had created all kinds of mayhem inside her. There was no question that whatever he’d done and achieved it had been a resounding success. His clothes were of the very best quality—Car
oline had seen that straight away—and he had the accomplished, confident air of a man who had diligently shaped his own destiny. But there was also an edgy desolation in his eyes…as if all he’d achieved wasn’t nearly enough to quell the deep unhappiness he harboured within himself.
‘Dinner?’ she repeated, her mind reluctantly breaking away from thoughts of Jack.
‘I’ll pick you up at around eight. Try not to look so unhappy, darling…a few bruises won’t do you any lasting harm.’
Forcing a reluctant smile to her frozen lips, Caroline nodded in agreement. ‘I know. I’m just annoyed at myself for being so stupidly clumsy, that’s all. I’d love to go out to dinner tonight. Thanks, Nicholas.’
‘You’re not still fretting about Jack Fitzgerald being back on the scene?’
Unable to keep the disapproval from his voice, Nicholas returned to his desk.
Feeling her stomach plummet to her shoes at the mention of the man who had been dominating her mind for the past three days, since his return, Caroline’s reply was vehemently dismissive.
‘Of course not! It’s all in the past, and I got over him a long time ago. I was only upset when I saw you because it was such a shock to see him again like that. Like I said…I’m over it now.’
But as Caroline said her goodbyes to Nicholas and went to the door, she thought, with a little sigh of despair, You’re such a hopeless liar, Caroline Tremayne.
CHAPTER FOUR
IT WAS one of those seaside hotels steeped in the elegance of a bygone Victorian era, yet brought unobtrusively up to date with all the trappings and conveniences of contemporary life. It had a fabulous Michelin-star-winning restaurant much beloved by both local visitors and those who travelled from further afield. Caroline liked to have afternoon tea there sometimes—not so much for the delicious cucumber sandwiches and mouthwatering selection of cakes, but more for the ambience. She would sit in the lovely drawing room, with its proud antiques and unapologeticially faded English grandeur, and dream the time away until it was time to leave.
She rarely had dinner there, so—in deference to dining out with Nicholas—Caroline had raided her wardrobe for something a little more dressy. Her red and white chiffon dress, with its sequin-inlaid scooped neckline, lent elegance and grace to her curves, and in defiance of the anxiety she’d suffered over the past few days she’d painted her lips with vibrant scarlet lipstick. Nicholas had told her she looked lovely, and the genuinely kind compliment had given Caroline a much needed boost. She definitely needed her friend’s more positive response after her dealings with Jack yesterday afternoon.
‘Some wine, darling?’ Perusing the leather-bound list at their table, Nicholas lowered it for a moment and smiled.
‘You choose.’
Caroline knew it was the reply he was expecting. Nicholas Brandon epitomised ‘old-school’ chivalry—his undoubted good manners underscored with an unapologetic dose of masculine chauvinism. It was the background and era he came from, and Caroline knew she shouldn’t be offended in any way. On the other hand, when her father had employed similar attitudes—often to demonstrate his power over her—it had completely rubbed her up the wrong way.
She glanced unhappily down at her menu, the writing seeming to swim and blur in front of her eyes at the unwanted memory. It was when she lifted her head up again, glancing round the room in a bid to bring her spiralling mood back into more positive check, that she spied Jack, sitting alone at one of the tables on the far side of the room from them. A tall sash window with oyster-coloured drapes provided an elegant backdrop to his clearly preoccupied appearance as he glanced straight ahead of him absently nursing his wine glass—apparently regarding nothing in particular.
Sucking in her breath deeply with shock, Caroline promptly sent her menu flying off the table, taking her own empty wine glass with it before she could prevent it. The glass tumbled to the thickly carpeted floor but thankfully did not shatter into pieces—as her composure was busy doing. Automatically she dropped to her haunches to retrieve it, along with the menu, her hand trembling as her fingers circled round the stem, all the blood roaring inside her ears at the realisation that Jack was dining there too.
On the other side of the room Jack’s attention was diverted by a beautiful blonde in an eye-catching red and white chiffon dress, crouching down by her table to retrieve a fallen glass. When she glanced up, and Jack’s gaze fell helplessly into her dark-eyed caught-in-the-headlights stare, his insides tensed in astonished surprise.
Caroline!
It was as though the concentration of all his thoughts for the past hour—which had been about her—had miraculously summoned her physical appearance, and Jack was genuinely stunned. As she sat down again, deliberately averting her gaze, he saw to his chagrin, he glanced across the table at her companion. The man was clearly much older than Caroline. At a guess Jack would have said late fifties at least. Who was he? Surely not her current boyfriend?
Jealousy seared his blood like the excruciating slash of a whip across his bare flesh. The man was old enough to be her father, and Jack didn’t like the proprietorial air he had about him as he leant over and reassuringly squeezed her hand after she’d picked up the glass. Acting purely on instinct, Jack was on his feet and striding across the richly furnished dining room towards them before he even realised that that was what he intended.
‘Hello, Caroline.’
To Jack, it was as though her companion didn’t even exist. When she glanced up, startled, into his face, her cheeks pinkening in obvious embarrassment at his direct address, he was transported back to their first proper meeting—when he’d asked her what her name was and then told her that she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. She’d blushed in the same unknowingly sexy way then, and he had been gripped by a fever of wild longing so profound that he had known meeting her would make an impact upon his life for ever. He hadn’t been wrong about that.
‘Jack.’
Pulling her glance away, she delivered what seemed to Jack to be an apologetic frown at the man on the other side of the table, and it made his blood boil. It reminded him of the condescending, superior way her father had once regarded him…as if he was the dirt beneath his feet.
‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?’
For now, he refused to assume that the man was involved with Caroline in any meaningful way. It simply did not bear thinking about.
‘Of course.’ She tried for a smile, but the gesture barely touched her scarlet-painted lips for a scant second.
Jack could see that he had put her immediately on edge. Good. He wanted to put her on the defensive. He wanted her to suffer the way he had suffered when her father had humiliated him by telling him he wasn’t good enough to go out with his daughter.
‘This is Dr Nicholas Brandon. He was a good friend of my father’s.’
Jack smiled easily at the other man’s clear and instantaneous dislike, feeling somehow gratified that Caroline had introduced him as her father’s friend but not specifically hers…
‘Nicholas…this is Jack Fitzgerald.’
‘Indeed.’
Even though Nicholas rose to his feet, to briefly and reluctantly shake Jack’s hand, Caroline could tell straight away that his view of Jack had been indelibly corrupted by her father’s opinion from way back. It made her furious. Nicholas had no right to treat Jack with anything but courtesy and respect. He didn’t even know the man, for goodness’ sake!
‘Pleased to make your acquaintance,’ Jack responded, smooth as silk—the slight drawl in his otherwise English accent denoting he’d spent a long time on the other side of the Atlantic. But, no sooner had he mouthed the insincere platitude, he diverted his attention straight back to Caroline. ‘You’re looking pretty as a peach,’ he remarked, shocking her rigid with the unexpected compliment. ‘What’s the occasion?’
‘There is no special occasion, as such,’ Nicholas interceded with irritation, his hazel-eyed glance seeming to issue Caro
line with a silent reprimand for even deigning to introduce him to her one-time boyfriend. ‘We are merely two friends having dinner together. Now, if you don’t mind excusing us…’
Caroline could hardly believe that Nicholas was dismissing Jack so rudely. Her sense of justice and fair play would not allow it—no matter how contemptibly Jack might treat her for past misdemeanours.
‘Have you had your meal yet?’ she asked him, silently terrified at what she was about to propose. ‘You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.’
To say that Jack was surprised by the invitation that issued from her very distracting lips was putting it mildly. Uncaring that the other man might register his definitely over-familiar and possessive glance as he let it travel from her face down to her shoulders, then lower, he felt bold, naked lust rip into him like a sword. The scooped neckline of her alluring red dress couldn’t help but call attention to the firm ripe breasts that were contained within it, and the ruby-red pendant she wore nestled tantalisingly in the shadowy valley between them.
No wonder Dr Nicholas Brandon wanted her all to himself! Caroline might fool herself that her relationship with this man was platonic, but Jack could see from a mile away that the man lusted after the sexy brown-eyed blonde as much as he did. The fact that Jack didn’t even pause to question the wisdom of desiring Caroline’s body again after all these years, and after the damage she’d done, didn’t even impinge upon his consciousness right then. All he knew was that he had to have the chance to get her back into his bed again…even if it was a one-time only deal.
‘I’ll have to pass,’ he replied in answer to her question, and briefly but deliberately smiled knowingly at the visible relief in her companion’s eyes. ‘I’m going to have my coffee, then go up to my room to do some work. Another time, perhaps? No doubt we’ll be bumping into each other again.’
‘You’re staying here at the hotel?’ Caroline asked in surprise.
‘I am. Oh, by the way…how are the bruises from yesterday?’